Tommy's Hufflepuff
by MiaGhost
Summary: (Rated T for Language) Gally is an utter crank. Thomas has been declared off-limits, but Gally is a pain. When a scrawny, unpopular kid called Isaac is sorted into one of his rival Houses, Gally sees the opportunity to bully him. Thomas doesn't know quite why, but he knows he can't allow that. Inter-house communication is a hot topic amongst the Professors right now.(Newtmas)
1. New Family

_Chapter One_

Thomas's dad died when he was little, and for a long while it was just Thomas and his mum, and that had been okay. Difficult, especially to start with, but okay. His dad had been pureblooded, born into the Magical world, and his mother had been Muggle born, so for a while they'd had to adjusted to navigating a Magical World without the support and guidance of his dad's knowledge.

Alexandria taught him how to ride his first broom, gifted him a Remembrall to combat his terrible memory, and read to him about anything and everything from Magical Creatures to the rarest Magical conditions, from Veelas to Werewolves. Together they had learned everything about the Magical World that she could legally lay her hands on, and she made sure he had all the chances to try anything he liked, Magic or Muggle. She took him to get his wand when he turned eight. They went on flying adventures, and went swimming in the Muggle pools. They rode the bus, and the tube, and went on holidays by plane instead of apparating. He went to Muggle Primary School, and made lots of friends. He played football. They cooked pancakes and made potions. They had picnics and went camping, had nature walks and lazy reading days. He'd had her all to himself until he was ten, when along came the day she met Myro, and Alexandria had fallen hopelessly in love with him.

And it wasn't that Thomas wasn't happy. Quite the opposite, in fact. Even at his young age Thomas had seen that Myro made Alexandria so happy that Thomas himself had done everything he possibly could to aid their transition from friends to lovers to spouses, everything he could do to ensure his mother always smiled. He respected Myro, and loved him too, and it was clear to anyone with eyes that Myro truly adored Alexandria.

Thomas was definitely happy about the whole situation, relieved that his mum could be happy and loved again. And Myro was a good guy, too. He spent a lot of time getting to know Thomas, and helping him out with homework, taking him on trips and introducing him to several children his age who would be going to Hogwarts with him. He was funny, down to earth and incredibly knowledgable on a lot of topics, and he was a fantastic cook. Myro was great.

It was Gally that Thomas couldn't stand.

Myro's wife had left them when Gally was six, and he'd never forgiven her. The man she'd fallen for was a Muggle, and she'd left the Magical World behind to be with him. Thomas found the story incredibly tragic, she'd left everything she'd ever known to be with the one she loved, and he wasn't stupid. Gally may not believe that his mother loved him, believing she'd run off because she didn't, but Thomas just _knew_ that she did. Mothers love their children, they just do.

Gally didn't think it was tragic, or romantic or anything that Thomas thought. Gally was furious about it. And he'd let it poison him, to the point where he despised Muggles, and had a treacherously strong view on Muggles and Blood Status that most certainly didn't come from his dad. When Gally had learnt that Alexandria was Muggle born, he'd instantly leapt on the chance to needle Thomas, sniping snide Half-blood comments at him, tripping him up and goading him into fights by referring to Alexandria as _the Mudblood_. He barely held himself in check when his father scolded them, sneering at Thomas when Myro couldn't see. Gally was two years older than Thomas, and built a lot wider, so Thomas had learned fast how to duck and weave and used his slighter frame to his advantage. Gally and his friends made sure to make Thomas' life hell, and when Myro and Alexandria told the boys they were engaged, it only got worse.

Gally was a slinthead, if you wanted to put it politely. Try as he might, Thomas just _couldn't_ like him. He was such a crank.

Gally's little brother Chuck, on the other hand, was so much more like his dad that Thomas almost believed Gally had to be adopted.

Chuck was a year younger than Thomas, and instantly latched on to the older boy. It seemed that Gally's hatred of everything did not fully extend to his little brother, but nor did he seem to love him either. If anything, Gally spent his days spitting insults at Thomas and pretty much ignoring Chuck.

Chuck didn't seem to mind. He took to following Thomas around all the time. If they were at home he'd follow him to the kitchen, chatting a hundred miles an hour and getting under Thomas' feet as he tried to make them sandwiches. He'd been eager to join Thomas at his Primary school when Alexandria suggested it, and although he was incredibly dorky and a little on the chubby side, he had charmed the muggle children just as easily as he had Thomas.

Life settled down, and Thomas settled into the new experience of having a busy household. Gally played incredibly loud music all the time, Alexandria and Myro held dinner parties, and Chuck pleaded continuously for Thomas to play video games with him. Despite the constant annoyance that was Gally's existence, Thomas loved his new household. On the rare days when Gally was civil, the three of them would compete at several of Chuck's video games, assuming Thomas and Chuck allowed Gally to win often enough that he'd stick around.

Of the children Myro had introduced Thomas to, he'd quickly taken a liking to Minho, a broad-shouldered dark-haired boy with a sarcastic sense of humour. He was sassy and daring, and unbelievably clever, and if it wasn't for his cool personality, he'd be a stereotypical Geek. He read, and he played football with Thomas and Chuck in their garden, and best of all he backed them up when Gally and his friends were being utter cranks.

Life was good, and with the excitement of Hogwarts on his horizons, Thomas felt uncountably lucky.


	2. The Platform

_Chapter Two_

The day had finally come, and Thomas was a bundle of nervous energy and barely contained excitement. His mother had spent the night before and the whole morning trying -and failing- to hide her anxious and fearful thoughts. Myro had drilled Gally very sternly on how he expected his son to behave, and to help Thomas settle in as best he could. To his credit, in the week leading up to the big day Gally had been the model of civility, but Thomas suspected that that had more to do with his own excitement at returning to Hogwarts than anything Myro had said to him.

Stepping through the barrier was like bursting a sound bubble. As Thomas hit the other side he couldn't help but exclaim in wonder. The platform was awash with noise, laughter and shouting, warm sunlight alighting on the many, many, _many_ hurrying forms. The air was full of an intoxicating concoction of steam and new clothes and something herby, and there was a tingle laced amongst the excitement that felt like Magic.

Thomas had never been this excited in his life.

They made their way through the crowd, Thomas paying little attention to his mum as she listed off out loud everything she had done and everything they needed, stumbling over the word robes and beginning to worry that she hadn't packed his Remembrall. Chuck assured her she had, and Thomas turned at his voice, grinning when his mum simply smiled almost bashfully and squeezed Chuck's shoulder in thanks.

Gally disappeared almost as soon as they hit the platform, and Myro assured Alexandria that this was totally normal, and that Gally wasn't new to this, remember? She smiled, relaxing, but her face was still etched with a worry that reminded Thomas that his mum was a much better person than him. He found it difficult to even just abide Gally, but his mum worried about him because she cared about him. Even if he was a snide little slinthead every now and then. Thomas had to admit that in the last few weeks he _had_ noticed a softening in Gally's attitude towards her, and he hadn't heard the word _mudblood_ in a while. But Thomas still thought he was a crank, really.

Thomas's first sight of the train enthralled him. Steam and grey smoke coiled and danced around the engine, which gleamed a ruby red in the light, the beautiful golden gilding catching and scattering the light. Polished to a deep shine, the contraption was breath-taking, and Thomas couldn't contain the glee that rose up from his toes, exclaiming loudly and looking to his mother. She was teary-eyed but grinning so widely that Thomas new her face would hurt when she stopped. She embraced him in a tight hug, and as she pulled away Thomas heard Chuck laughing. He looked at him.

"I forgot, you've seen it before!"

Chuck nodded, blushing a little as he looked up at Thomas.

"I was louder than you the first time i saw it though, much more embarrassing."

Thomas simply grinned and ruffled Chuck's hair, both of them laughing as a voice called Thomas's name. He turned to see Minho sprinting towards him, dancing between the people moving along the platform.

"Thomas! Chuck! Hey you two!"

He grabbed Thomas in a bear hug, drawing back to high five both him and Chuck.

"Hey Mr Darwin! Mrs Edison! You excited?"

His last words were directed at Thomas, and his grin lit Thomas's up in return.

"Like you wouldn't believe! You?"

"Course i am, you deadhead." quipped his friend, and Thomas laughed, crying out indignantly when Minho dodged his swat and clipped his ear.

"Gotta be quicker than that, Tommo."

Thomas rubbed his ear with a laugh, promising he'd get his friend hack for that. Minho simply grinned wider, and tipped his fingers in a mock salut.

"I have to get back, my mum'll be going nuts. My sister gets on ASAP to bags a good carriage, and mum's worried the train will leave early with me still on the platform, as if! I'll find us a carriage, yeah? See you shank!"

Without waiting for an answer the bigger boy was off, weaving through the crowd expertly and making Thomas laugh again. The anticipation to be off grew, even as the feeling of missing his home began to dawn.

"Right you."

Myro's voice was warm and gruff, and when Thomas looked at him he could see his mother's worry and pride mirrored in his blue eyes. Thomas smiled, reaching over to hug him. Myro chuckled and ruffled his hair as he drew away.

"Lets get you on this train, yeah? Can't have Minho fighting off the sixth years trying to steal your carriage on his own, can we?"

Thomas laughed and agreed, gathering up his rucksack from where he'd left it at his feet. Gally was nowhere in sight, and Thomas was relieved, really. It would be all very fine and well having someone older to walk him through the day, but in truth Thomas would rather find his way with Minho than have Gally hold his hand. And he suspected Gally would agree.

After kissing his mum's cheek and giving her a brief hug goodbye, Thomas had thrown his arms around Chuck and the younger boy had clung tightly to him in return. Thomas had readied himself for saying goodbye to his mum, had been expecting it for years. But he had not thought to prepare himself for the sharp sting of sorrow he felt while hugging his little brother goodbye.

Gally was, and forever would be his _step_ -brother. But Thomas saw Chuck very decidedly as his little brother, and as he drew back, he saw the sadness in Chuck's brown eyes. He bumped the smaller boy's chin with his knuckles, smiling back when he gained a smile from him.

"It'll be Christmas before you know it, and i'll have so many stories to tell you. I'll bring you so many things back."

He tried to persuade Chuck to agree with him.

"You've got free reign in my room, kay?"

At that, Chuck did cave, smiling at Thomas in a way that let him know he knew what he was trying to do, and that he was letting it work. As Thomas hoisted his rucksack higher on his shoulder and reached for the handle of his trunk, Chuck reached out to grab his arm.

"You'll write to me?"

Thomas grinned and nodded, love warm in his chest.

"Of course, and you me, yeah?"

Chuck's eyes were eager, serious.

"Promise?"

Chuckling and ruffling the chocolate curls, he bent down so they were eye to eye.

"I promise. Don't get into trouble at school, okay?" he joked, Chuck never got into trouble. The younger boy simply nodded, and as the whistle blew Thomas straightened up, flashing his parents a grin and returning his gaze to Chuck's young face.

"I have to go. I'll miss you, Chuck. I'll write first thing tonight, okay? Bye!"

With an excited wave, he was off, dragging his trunk over the bustling platform to where the train gleamed like a jewel amidst the silver smoke.

Seated in a carriage with Minho and a few of Minho's friends whose names he couldn't remember, Thomas felt the excitement brewing heavy in his stomach. Minho grinned at him, eyes gleaming, and he grinned back. This was going to be the best thing ever!

As the train pulled away, he waved frantically at his family through the window, laughing as Chuck bounced up and down like a kangaroo on caffeine.

It was finally happening. _He was off_.


	3. Train Encounters

_Chapter Three_

Thomas forced himself away from the window and back into his seat at the knock on their carriage door. Standing in the doorway was Gally, absent his friends, and he flicked a glance around the carriage, his steely blue eyes closed off. His gaze landed on Thomas and he gave a brief jerk of his head.

"You good, yeah?"

His words were sharp, distant. Thomas ignored the under-their-breath muttering from Minho's friends and nodded to Gally.

"Yes. Thanks."

He threw an almost-smile in for good measure. Gally nodded, seemingly satisfied, and bade a blunt retreat. When he was gone, Minho looked at Thomas with his usual suspicious-sarcastic expression, disbelief in his eyes.

"What was _that_?"

Ignoring the sounds of agreement from his friends, Minho continued to look at Thomas as the other boy shrugged, looking out the window again.

"Myro wants him to look out for me, i guess. Or at least not be too much of a crank."

Minho gave a cynical laugh, leaning back in his seat to continue the card game he and the others were playing. Thomas hadn't wanted to join in when the game was started, content to watch the city give way to countryside and greenery.

"I give it a week."

Thomas simply nodded, making a noncommittal humming noise. The carriage refilled with the friendly atmosphere of before, and Thomas settled into his seat, dividing his time between staring out the window, daydreaming about what Hogwarts and the next semester was going to be like, and laughing along with his carriage-mates as the competitive nature of their games escalated. Eventually, just when Thomas was beginning to need the toilet, there was another knock on the door.

This one was gentler, soft, and the boys looked up from the table at the small figure in the doorway.

"Anything from the trolley, dears?"

The woman was tiny, with fluffy grey hair and a warm-looking lavender cardigan over a blue blouse, and a dark green skirt and brown shoes. She was pushing a silver trolley and looking at them with an expectant expression. The trolly had three shelves, each piled high with more types of sweet than Thomas had ever seen in one place, and that was including the sweetshops he'd been to with his mum. Minho's two friends (FryPan and Alby, he'd been reminded) whooped and battled to be first, their laughter contagious and making Thomas grin and laugh along. Minho rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, getting to his feet in a deliberate show of dignity. Thomas simply laughed at him and received a grin in response.

"Animals." said Minho, his tone painted with exasperation and humour. He ducked as FryPan tried to cuff him, laughing when the other boy almost over-balanced. Thomas's mum had given him extra money for the journey once Myro had mentioned the Trolley Lady. It seemed she'd been there for as long as anyone could remember, and probably would be forever more.

He didn't really feel all that hungry, but he bought some red straw-like sweets and a few chocolate frogs. He'd yet to get over his wonder at the little witches and wizards inside, and he and Chuck collected and traded the cards for anything and everything, almost a currency of sorts. The thought of his little brother released a twinge in his abdomen. He wished Chuck was here too.

The younger boy had been so excited when Thomas had joined their family, and they had bonded incredibly quickly. Thomas knew some of it had started off as a united front against Gally, but that played only a tiny part in it. If Thomas could have chosen anyone for a brother, he would have picked Chuck. The boy was so bright and friendly and cheerful even when Gally was at his worst, and it was impossible not to love him. He was Thomas's best friend, pipping Minho to the post.

As the others settled back down and their chatter and teasing resumed, Thomas asked Minho if he knew where the toilets were.

"My sister said they're at the end of the train furthest from the engine."

 _Figures_ , thought Thomas. _They_ would _be the as far from their front carriage as possible_. Sod's Law guaranteed it. Getting to his feet, he was making his way out as Minho called him back.

"Best take your sweets with you if you want them to be there when you get back." he chuckled, much to the disappointment of FryPan, if his chiding of Minho was anything to go by.

Thomas filled his pockets with a grin, thanking Minho for the warning. As he left he tossed a chocolate frog at FryPan, earning a whoop from the taller boy. As he walked down the corridor he could hear Alby bargaining for a piece. Grinning to himself he set off for the toilets, stepping to the side to let a group of older girls pass, earning thanks for his manners. With a light blush in his cheeks he ducked his head, trying to ignore their collective giggling.

He knew it was rude, but he couldn't help stealing glances to either side as he made his way through the train, curious to see the groups in every carriage. Obvious first and second years gradually gave way to seemingly older students, and the carriages closest to the end of the train seemed to be mostly occupied by sixth and seventh years, judging by textbooks and charms being cast, and the glint of several Prefect badges. A few of the carriages were empty, or had some brave younger students, and just before he reached the toilets Thomas's eyes flicked to the left and alighted upon a carriage with a single occupant.

It wasn't the first one he'd seen, to be fair, but the lone figure in this one gave him pause. He stopped in the corridor, curiosity piqued as he took a closer look at the boy on the seat. He was small, almost scrawny, willowy to the point where a breeze might knock him over. He had his feet up on the seat opposite him, and Thomas could see mis-matching socks peeking from under his jeans. He was burrowed into a hoody that looked a little too big, and he was gazing out of the window with a relaxed, distant expression. His brown-blonde hair was fluffy and messy, with a sweeping curve at the front which curled upwards and back. His ears were small, and almost pointed at the top, and Thomas found himself staring at the way the sunlight glinted on him, creating an almost-halo around his head.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been staring when the train jostled slightly, and Thomas's distracted state meant he over-balanced, bumping into the carriage door. The head turned in his direction and he was caught, a sheepish warmth stealing onto his face. The figure looked at him curiously, wide eyes a darker brown than Thomas had ever seen, and then the lips quirked in a shy almost-smile, and Thomas found himself smiling back awkwardly.

"Uh, hi."

He frowned at his own lame greeting even before the other boy reacted. He needn't have worried. The blonde boy sat up straighter and extended a hand, meaning Thomas had to enter the carriage to shake it, which he did.

"Hello."

The boy's voice was soft and polite, with a lilting twang that Thomas took to immediately. His parents had moved to England a little after Thomas had turned three, not long before his dad died, and although he'd lived there for years, he'd never lost the broad American curl in his accent. This boy's accent was so very british and proper that Thomas grinned. He liked it.

"I'm Thomas." he supplied, the awkwardness in his stomach magnifying.

The other boy simply smiled as he shook his hand.

"I'm Newt." his face morphed a little, into something resembling fear, and he shook his head a little, "Well, it's Isaac, really."

Thomas couldn't help but raise his eyebrows.

"Newt, short for Isaac? Like Isaac Newton? Are you serious?"

The smaller boy withdrew, his face falling, grin fading.

"Ehm, yes, i suppose."

Thomas's grin clearly took him by surprise as the dark-haired boy sat down beside him, toilet forgotten.

"That's well cool. My second name's Edison."

Newt laughed, and it lit up his face so brightly that Thomas felt the need to do it again.

"Maybe we'll need to experiment together."

Newt's laugh rose, his voice warm and joyful.

"That's brilliant, mate."

Thomas found his laughter infectious, and he joined him. The two laughed for a long time, and as the mirth died down, Newt wiped his eyes.

"Oh man." Thomas chuckled, "That's fabulous, i love it."

Newt smiled back at him.

"You're telling me. What a coincidence."

Thomas snorted, and shifted as the edge of a chocolate frog dug into him through his pocket. He didn't hesitate, instead he emptied his pockets on the table before them, offering Newt a chocolate frog. The other boy looked at him shyly, eyes bright.

"Oh no, i couldn't."

He pushed the offering away, but Thomas persisted.

"Oh, go on. I've already had four." he lied.

The dark eyes looked at him, assessing him for a moment before Newt reached out and tentatively took the sweet, his lips quirking at the side again.

"Thank you."

His voice was quiet, and heavy, and Thomas shook his head.

"It's nothing, man. It's just chocolate."

Newt reddened a little, and his eyes looked like he was about to disagree, but then he simply nodded.

"Thanks."

Thomas grinned again, biting into one of the red straws and leaning back in his seat.

"Don't mention it."

As Newt opened the box, the frog chose that moment to leap spectacularly high and its path arced as it landed with a sticky-sounding thud against the opposite wall. Thomas was only half paying attention to the sight because Newt's reaction was so fantastic he couldn't tear his eyes from him. Newt let out a whooping exclamation, a surprised laugh torn from him as he jumped. He looked to Thomas with delighted eyes, and as he started to giggle Thomas couldn't resist joining him.

The pair dissolved into fits, and in the midst of it Newt slipped from his perch to land with a thud on the floor under the table, which only caused Thomas to laugh harder. Newt's face was a picture, surprise laced with laughter, and as he tried to right himself Thomas tried to calm himself enough to help. He offered Newt his hand, but it took three tries to drag the smaller figure up from the floor, because the first attempt didn't take, laughter making them weak, and the second go resulted in Newt bumping his head on the table and further laughter. As Thomas tugged the other boy up onto his seat, he tried his hardest to swallow his remaining laughter at the expression on Newt's face.

"I don't know whether to laugh or cry." he said, dusting himself off, and Thomas merely nodded, lest a snigger escape.

As Newt righted his hoody and shook out his hair, he looked at Thomas again, almost wounded. Thomas shook his head and tried to explain.

"I know it's not funny." he tried, raising his hands defensively, "But it's _funny_."

Newt rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, but Thomas was relieved to see that he didn't really look mad. He grinned, charmingly, the way he knew made his mum find it difficult to scold him. Newt visibly softened, and looked away out the window to protect his composure.

"Hmm."

Thomas merely watched him for a while, before realising that Minho would be wondering where we was. Reluctantly, he sat forward. Newt turned at the movement, curiosity in his eyes as Thomas got to his feet.

"I should go. My friend… He'll be worrying where i am."

Newt's face fell, but he nodded, before covering it with a small smile.

"Of course. It was lovely meeting you, and uh, thank you for the sweets."

Thomas rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at Newt from where he stood in the doorway. He was torn, and in his reluctance to leave it did not occur to him to invite Newt along to meet Minho and the others. He nodded.

"No problem. I'll, uhh, se you around."

Newt continued to look at him, nodding slowly, and Thomas had to force himself to look away from those dark brown eyes.

He was suddenly filling with a weird emotion he didn't recognise, and with an awkward wave he made a hasty retreat, only remembering half-way back that he hadn't gone to the toilet. The weird feeling settled heavily in his lower abdomen, and he tried to avoid it because the edges were cold and tingly and new, and came with the fear of being consumed.

As he slid back into his carriage and dropped into his seat, Minho stared at him with an expression that was a unique balance of suspicious and concerned. Thomas avoided his eyes.

"Where did you get to? We were thinking we'd have to send out a search party!" Alby grinned, while simultaneously swatting one of FryPan's hands, which was trying to sneak one of his cards away when Alby wasn't looking.

"Yeah." added Minho, "What happened?"

Thomas forced a grin and shook his head.

"Got lost."

He looked out of the window so that he didn't have to see the way Minho's eyebrows raised, or the way Alby and FryPan exchanged glances.

"D'you think we'll be there soon?" he asked a few moments later, when a feeling of normalcy had returned.

Minho looked up, eyes assessing the view.

"Think so. Time for robes, shanks?"

The ensuing activity drew Thomas back out of his stupor, and he joined in whole-heartedly with the chaotic and entirely unorganised collecting of cards and rucksacks. The crash of one of their trunks hitting the table sent up a riot of laughter and teasing accusations, and Thomas managed to momentarily forget about the odd, lonely boy with the brown eyes who made his stomach clench.

They scrabbled for robes and Thomas grinned at them, his eyes meeting Minho's as the other boy grinned back.

They were almost there!


	4. Sorting Revelations

_Chapter Four_

Thomas, much like many of the other first years, was in a daze. The boat ride, on which he'd learned of Minho's very acute fear of the water and spent half his time stopping FryPan from trying to tip their boat, Thomas had caught his first look at the gigantic castle on the cliffs which was to be his home away from home for the next seven years. It was lit by many tiny floating lights, wrapped in a thin fog like an interesting pebble glinting in a riverbed.

The darkness through which they travelled was warm and comforting, the stars in the sky reflecting in the glassy surface of the lake and creating an enchanted bubble. Stars above and below made Thomas feel like he was floating and falling at the same time and it was wondrous. Before he knew it they were standing on the marble floor of a massive Entrance Hall, huddled together and feeling small and anxious and awaiting direction.

Blinking fully alert in a moment of sudden panic, Thomas threw his gaze around, finding Minho right by his side. As though he knew, which he probably did, Minho placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. His friend looked almost timid, and although it was such a bizarre expression on Minho's face, it reassured Thomas that his anxiety wasn't entirely unfounded. If the great and confident Minho was nervous, then it really was okay for Thomas to be terrified.

Swallowing nervously, he looked around again, his eyes alighting on the odd boy from the train. He too looked worried, and although he was standing in almost the middle of the crowd, he looked as though he were off to the side, alone. His face was pale, and he was gripping his collar with both hands, fingers barely peeking from the billows of his sleeves.

As though sensing his gaze, Newt looked over, and their eyes met. Thomas could read the fear in the smaller boy's gaze, and as though they were speaking, he tipped his head, trying to smile. _It'll be okay._ It worked, and strangely enough Newt seemed to relax just a little, and Thomas could just imagine the _Thank You._ he could read in Newt's timid smile back. A hush fell over the already quiet crowd, and Thomas might have missed it, his eyes still locked on Newt's, if Minho hadn't nudged him gently in the ribs.

With a last second for luck, he tore his eyes from Newt to see what had Minho's attention. A tall woman was walking towards a podium that Thomas hadn't seen before, and when she reached it she eyed them all expectantly. Thomas held his breath without knowing he was doing it.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Her voice was sharp and stern but not unpleasant, and Thomas knew immediately that she was not one to cross. Her eyes were cool and sharp as she looked at them all.

"This will be your home for the next seven years. You will learn many things within these walls, and not all of them will be found in your textbooks. I am Professor McGonagall, and i will the one teaching you Transfiguration this year. In a moment, we will proceed through these doors into the Great Hall where you will sorted into one of our four Houses, as written by our Four Founders. Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff and Salazar Slytherin built this school with the vision that witches and wizards everywhere would have a place to learn and thrive, protected by both the ancient magics here and by each other. Your House will be your family, and you will behave in a manner befitting that of a student of this school. Points will be given and taken away based on this and a great many other things, and i can assure you that winning the House Cup is a prestigious honour, and that your older Housemates will be most unamused should any of you become a reason why they will not win."

Here she paused, and then, very strangely, she smiled.

"So do us proud. Your Head of House will be your guide, along with your upper Housemates. Your Prefects will take care of you. We will now proceed into the Great Hall. When you are sorted into your House, please make your way to the House Tables. For those of you fortunate enough to be sorted into Gryffindor, you will be under my care. Now, make two lines, and proceed in single file. Good Luck."

She swept away, approaching the massive doors. They opened at she neared, and the sight before them caused many of the first years to gasp. Scrabbling into line next to Minho, Thomas looked upon the sight in wonder. The noise gushed from the open doorway, enveloping them as they walked into the midst of it, calls and waves and laughter reaching their ears. The ceiling seemed to contain the sky, darkest under the rafters and filled with glinting stars and thousands of floating candles, which flickered invitingly amongst the clouds.

Thomas took in the sight of the four unbelievably long tables reaching out from the door end of the ginormous room, and to his far left he saw Gally sitting halfway down his House Table, amongst his friends, clad in his black and green robes. His step-brother didn't call for him, or wave like many of the other older relatives were doing. In fact, much of his table simply sat, solemn and dignified, a contrast with the craziness emanating from the other three tables.

However, Gally's eyes were upon him, tracking his movement down the long aisle, and when Thomas met his eyes, Gally smiled at him. It was a small smile, barely there, but it was there, and Thomas grinned in return. As he passed Gally's level, the older boy nodded to him. And then they had passed him and Thomas turned his eyes to the from of the Hall, where Professor McGonagall was gathering them together. Behind her was another long table, lengthways this time, and occupied by a line of Professors who couldn't be more different in appearance or attitude if they tried.

When they were finally gathered at the centre of attention in the vast room, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. Silence fell, and Thomas was awed and frightened. If so many students fell silent at just that single small cough, he wondered what horrors could happen to those who did not comply to the sharp woman's wishes.

"When i call your name you will approach the steps, and sit upon the stool. Let us begin."

She unfolded a large roll of parchment, holding it out before her as she spoke.

"Michael Alice."

A large, broad-shouldered boy approached the stool, and although Thomas instantly got the impression that this boy was not to be messed with, he looked in that moment like he wanted the floor to swallow him up. He shook as he sat on the stool, eyes wide with fear and confusion as the Professor placed a worn, ugly old hat upon his head. For a heartbeat or two, nothing happened, and the silence continued, the first years too afraid to whisper to each other.

And then, to Thomas's utter shock, the brown hat _moved_. It shifted as though coming to life, and the creases wiggled and settled, as though creating a furrowed brow and mouth.

Through which the object _spoke._ The boy, Michael, almost toppling from the stool in surprise.

"Hmm. Interesting. I spy a _Ravenclaw_!"

The ensuing clamour made Thomas jump. He spun in surprise to see the long table occupied by whooping students in black and blue robes shouting and calling, a round of applause exploding from almost every student in the room. When turned back, the Professors were clapping too, all except a greasy-looking dark-haired man at the far end.

Michael jumped from the stool, not noticing the way in which his robes seemed to grow blue trimming, a badge containing a bird appearing over his heart. He made his way to the table in an almost-run, and was enveloped into a hug by the taller boy seated next to him. Thomas realised he was grinning, fear forgotten as he became eager for his name to be called and his newest family assigned.

The noise died down again, and the list continued.

"Jessica Avery."

A small girl with very red cheeks and dark brown pigtails made her way up, shaking so badly she had to try twice to climb onto the stool. The hat was placed upon her head and again it shifted and muttered a little before speaking.

"I call _Hufflepuff_!"

The girl deemed to deflate in relief, a grin splitting her face as she returned the Hat with a " _Yesssssss!"_. She leapt down, almost tripping as she bolted to the Yellow and black table, enveloped into the middle of one side by two girls who looked very much like they could be older sisters.

A handful more names were called before Thomas realised they would be reaching E soon. For a rare moment in his life he wasn't worrying about the way people would respond to his surname, thinking instead of what House he really wanted to be in. True, it would make things so much easier with Gally if he was placed with him. A sort of loyalty, if you will. Something in common might make his step-brother go easier on him. Then again, he didn't know if he could achieve the whole dignified and cultured air that House seemed to exude, maybe if he-

"Thomas Edison."

His heart hammered and for a moment he couldn't move. Minho nudged him encouragingly, and with a quick glance at his friend he made his way forward. He could feel the burning of thousands of eyes, and the heavy anticipation in the air made it hard to take a proper breath. The stool felt like it was miles away, and his heart raced faster the closer he got. Just when he was starting to worry he would pass out before he ever got there, his fingertips reached out for the worn wood top. He swallowed, his mouth dry as he twisted, seating himself. His fingers fidgeted with his sleeve, and he could feel his face heating up as he faced the sea of faces.

The Hat settled on his head, and the movement of it shifting, even though he'd expected it, still surprised him, making him uneasy. His mind raced. What House? What House?

 _What House, eh?_

The voice might have been spoken in his ear, or come from his head, Thomas couldn't be sure. His stomach roiled as he worried and waited.

 _Gally's in Slytherin. Gally's in Slytherin._

 _Yes indeed. I put him there myself. You're wondering if you belong there too._

Thomas swallowed again, biting the inside of his cheek. Hie eyes sought Minho, but landed on Newt instead. The smaller boy was staring at him intently, and when Thomas caught his eye he smiled, causing Thomas to miraculously calm down enough to think straight. With his eyes locked in Newt's, he spoke to the Hat in his head.

 _It might make him nicer._

 _You have so much potential that would be thrown away in Slytherin._

 _But-_

 _If you really want to, then go ahead, but i would advise otherwise. Gally is Gally either way. You may be disappointed with the results of such a choice. You'd be so much more suited in-_

 _Wait!_

 _You should take my advice. You may find yourself happier elsewhere._

Thomas broke Newt's gaze to look at Gally, who was staring at him intently. He tried to communicate, to ask with his eyes a question he couldn't even word. Gally surprised Thomas for the second time that day. He twisted his lips, and then, as though he knew what Thomas was asking and after glancing to either side to make sure he wasn't being seen, he smiled a proper smile, his expression almost humoured as he tipped his head, jerking it towards the other tables. Thomas felt himself relax.

 _Okay. Okay._

 _If you're sure…_

Before he could answer the Hat straightened up and its voice filled the Hall from flagstones to rafters.

"Get him a seat in _Gryffindor_!"

The declaration was met with a roaring of sound, a screaming clamour of whoops and calls and whistles, the loudest yet Thomas was sure. Such a loud House. He grinned at the Hat as it was lifted from his head. It seems it may have been right after all. From the crowd, Minho was clapping, and grinning like a lunatic. When Thomas looked for Newt, the other boy was smiling knowingly, nodding to Thomas as though to confirm he thought the right choice had been made. Thomas grinned back.

Sliding from the stool, he'd barely taken a step into the chaos before his robes began to change, a streak of glorious, loud red racing from each shoulder down to the hem and flooding the inside lining from collar to tails. As he strode towards his new family, Thomas grinned at the emblem appearing ver his heart, a vibrant golden and red lion prowling in a circle, head tipped back as though roaring before it settled in a rampant pose and went still.

He was greeted exuberantly by his Housemates, tugged and pushed in every direction at once as all within reach tried to hug him, shake his hand, ruffle his hair, knock his shoulder. He was flooded with a rush of pride and excitement, thanking anyone listening and grateful he had listened to the Hat. As the people around him, his _Housemates_ , settled down and McGonagall continued, Thomas couldn't stop grinning, eagerly waiting through each name, applauding and cheering just as loudly as his Housemates had for him, when _finally_ Minho's name was called.

"Minho Kakadashi."

He watched with baited breath as his friend strode forwards, and gave him a thumbs up as the Hat was put in place. Minho watched him nervously, and Thomas grinned brightly to reassure him.

"One more for the Birdcage, it's _Ravenclaw_!"

The noise again erupted, and Thomas rose to his feet, whooping and clapping. Minho shot him a look that was apologetic, and Thomas simply gave him a thumbs up, vaulting the bench to clap his shoulder as Minho deliberately walked the long way to pass him. _Thanks_ , he mouthed, and Thomas shook his head. As Minho passed and Thomas made his way back to his own table, his eyes inexplicably sought out Newt again.

A flush of anger rose unexpectedly as he saw the willowy figure being shoved by a bigger boy with black hair, but before he could say anything McGonagall has started to speak again. The bigger boy drifted away and Newt rubbed at his arm, looking less than surprised. Thomas frowned, waiting through the next dozen or so names, half-hoping Newt would be assigned to Gryffindor so that Thomas could stop idiots like that from hurting him.

The feeling surprised him, and once he'd noticed his reaction was odd, he was doused in that uncomfortable feeling again. He shook himself, trying to shake it off.

"Isaac Newton."

The moment had arrived. Thomas leaned forwards, tense in his seat as the tiny figure approached the stool. Thomas hadn't noticed till now, but Newt had a faint limp. Not really all that noticeable, just a slight sway. He watched intently as Newt scrambled up on the stool, having to bounce on his toes in an awkward sort of twist-bounce. Faint sniggers reached Thomas's ears and his eyes narrowed.

Now that was just mean.

His frown cleared, however, when those large dark eyes sought him out. Newt looked incredibly nervous, fidgeting tensely, his pale face worried. Thomas smiled gently, encouraging, and he saw Newt take a deep breath and close his eyes. He saw the way the slight boy jumped at what must have been the Hat's voice in his head. He watched Newt's expression moving anxiously, hoping.

Newt's eyes flew open and landed right on Thomas and he held his breath as the Hat opened its mouth to speak.

"Better make some room, _Hufflepuff_!"

Thomas was caught off-guard by a wave of disappointment, and he felt his face fall. It didn't last long because Newt was looking at him with an unreadable expression, and Thomas forced himself to grin, joining in the applause.

Newt slid down from the stool, almost losing his balance, his arms out to steady himself. There was a round of laughter, but Thomas didn't care because he was too busy watching the brief flash of pain that passed over Newt's face, before clearing into a grin.

The yellow flushed down the black of his robes, bright and cheerful just as Thomas had found him to be. He sighed to himself. It seemed the Hat was pretty good at what it did, really. It would still have been nice to have Newt in his House though.

As Newt passed the end of the Gryffindor table where Thomas was seated, the Gryffindor leaned as far out from the table as he could, reaching out his hand. Newt laughed brightly as he completed the high-five, his eyes dancing with mirth in his flushed and excited face. Thomas grinned, rewarded with that smile as a flash of affection flickered in his chest. He sat back, watching Newt being welcomed into his new House with an enthusiasm that actually outstripped the way the Gryffindors had accepted Thomas himself.

He grinned. Gally had mentioned Hufflepuff a few times, always in a sneering and condescending manner, and although he wholly disagreed with Gally's opinions, the idea he had mentioned that they were all friendly and close rang true. Thomas was pleased. Newt had looked so lonely on the train, and on his own in the huddle of first years, but had been so friendly and cheerful when Thomas had visited his carriage. He was glad that Newt would have a whole House of potential friends.


	5. After-Dinner Plans

The rest of the Sorting Ceremony went by in a blur after that, full of noise and laughter and acceptance. Thomas was beginning to relax into Hogwarts, his fear from before blown away. By the time the tables filled magically with an abundance of incredibly delicious-looking food, Thomas was starving.

Throughout the meal, Thomas had taken as many chances to look around the room as possible, as many of the other first years were doing. He and Minho had exchanged grins and waves, and at the moment his friend was deep in conversation with the girl and boy on either side of him, their heads close as they laughed at something he'd said. Thomas grinned. Minho was probably in his element, making as many of his geeky jokes as he could get away with. He chatted with his own Housemates, trying to memorise names and laughing at the playful banter that seemed the prevalent form of communication in Gryffindor.

After the tables were cleared and they were spoken to briefly by Professor Dumbledore, their Headmaster, Professor McGonagall took the attention again, hush descending.

"Five minutes of Inter-House now. First Years, you will now have a few minutes to mingle with the other Houses to speak to siblings and such, before your Prefects will escort you to your Common Rooms, and from their your dorms. I need not remind you all that House Passwords are in place for a reason, and that you are still to avoid sharing them for the moment. Inter-House Unity is a newer concept we are developing here at Hogwarts right now, and your Professors will be able to explain this to you in detail in the days to come. Five minutes, and then your Prefects will lead you out. Good Evening, and Welcome to our first years."

There was a polite applause as she stepped down, seating herself next to the Headmaster and engaging him in conversation. Thomas looked around at the room, noticing that although many students were beginning to wander around to other tables and form small groups, many students also stayed seated, conversing with their Housemates. He stood.

Finding Minho was difficult, the Ravenclaw had made several new friends already and was standing amongst a large group when Thomas finally caught sight of him. He clapped his friend's shoulder as he passed by, and he and Minho exchanged a few words and a promise to see each other in the morning before Thomas set off to look for Gally.

Gally was still seated at his table, as was most of his House, and Thomas grew nervous as he approached. He began to fidget again, his nerves returning as he wondered how Gally would react. He had _tried_ to get into Slytherin, but the Hat had insisted, and Thomas had believed that the Magical Object would know better than he did. Now he began to wonder if he should have stuck to his guns. His step-brother's blue eyes flicked to him and he swallowed, smiling and waving a little awkwardly as he read he'd the table.

The Slytherins on Thomas's side of the table looked over when Gally did, and then they parted silently to allow him a space. Thomas decided not to take it, and awaited Gally's reaction.

The dark blue eyes were unreadable, and Thomas was sure he'd made the biggest mistake of his life before Gally did a very surprising thing. He smiled, and it was _almost_ friendly.

"I knew you'd be a sodding Lion."

His tone was odd, almost teasing, and Thomas boldly grinned in reply, clearly startling several of Gally's Housemates.

"You sound almost jealous, Gally."

He knew he was toeing the line, but Gally's good humour held, and he barked a short laugh.

"In your dreams, _Gryffindor_. You've missed out."

Thomas snorted, and kept his eyes on Gally, ignoring the cluster of black and green robes surrounding the older boy.

"Well, i did ask, but the Hat insisted."

Gally raised his eyebrows.

"Hmm."

Their conversation was clearly over, and Thomas nodded, preparing to leave.

"Goodnight, Gally. I'll see you around."

It was cheeky, he knew, but oh well. He'd learned over dinner that Gryffindors were bold and brave and cheeky, and that suited him just fine. Gally rolled his eyes.

"Sod off you wanker."

Thomas waved cheerily, at the whole bundle of Slytherins, before heading off to see if he could catch Newt before the Prefects took them away. As he was leaving the table he would almost swear he heard Gally talking to his friends.

"Remember his face. A no-go, understood?"

Thomas spotted Newt sitting off to the side of a huddle of Hufflepuffs, absently toying with his bottom lip and listening to their conversation but not really taking part. It didn't look like they were shutting him out, just that Newt was keeping his distance for now. Newt was perched atop the table, feet on the bench and looking totally out of place and perfectly at ease at the same time. Thomas frowned a little, curious. He was almost beside the smaller boy before he was noticed, and the dark brown eyes landed on him as a smile lit his face. He grinned automatically in return.

Dropping on the table beside Newt, Thomas nudged his shoulder playfully with his own.

"Not up for _mingling_?"

The smaller boy reddened a little but shook his head, his lips quirking in the same half-smile as before.

"Not right now, no. Think maybe i'm just needing forty winks."

Thomas nodded, looking out across the sea of chatter thoughtfully.

"They'll be giving us our Class Timetables when we get to the Common Rooms." Newt commented.

"Oh?"

Thomas looked back at him.

"Yupp. Apparently they usually create two pairs of Houses, say Gryffindor and Slytherin, and we'd do all our lessons like that, but they've recently put in a rota system that means we have different classes with different Houses. Part of the Inter-House Unity Programme they're developing."

Thomas watched as Newt spoke, becoming more engaged and enthusiastic as he went on, and Thomas grinned when he realised that Newt talked with his hands, gesturing and emphasising his point.

"It's really very clever. I think it's a great idea, working to banish House Hate."

He smiled widely, a little sheepish at his own enthusiasm. Thomas laughed.

"Sounds like a lot of work, to be honest."

Newt looked a little wounded, but simply shrugged and looked away across the room when he spoke again.

"We might have classes together."

His voice was shy and soft, uncertain, and Thomas almost missed it. When he worked out what the other boy had said, he smiled.

"Well in that case i think it's a great idea."

Newt flushed bashfully and Thomas chuckled again, bumping their shoulders together. Newt flicked him a look just as McGonagall called for them to line up behind their Prefects. Thomas hid his disappointment badly as he slid from his perch. Newt did the same, landing beside him and cocking his head in Thomas's direction.

"Well, i hope i'll see you tomorrow." said Thomas, eyeing the way that the other boy shuffled awkwardly.

"Me too." Newt murmured, before darting off to find his Prefect.

Thomas watched him go with a grin, fairly confident in the knowledge that Newt and he would very soon be fast friends.


	6. First Night

Thomas decided right away that the Gryffindor Common Room was _shucking awesome_. The huge round tower room was glorious in Reds and Golds, a massive fireplace surrounded by low coffee tables and huge squishy-looking couches that looked like you could fall asleep on them. Thomas had never seen so much furniture in one place. There were candle-beacons and long banners on the stone walls, the entire room a warm riotous chaos of colour and noise that assaulted you the second you scrambled through the Portrait Hole.

The room was _full_ of cushions, and before long there were piles of them dotted between beanbags and sofas and armchairs, Gryffindors seated on them as the evening chatter permeated the air. The curves of the round walls were filled with desks, each piled with stacks of books and papers and quills and various other bits and pieces. Thomas got the impression that they didn't really belong to any one student in particular but collected the trappings of anybody and everybody.

Before too long he was lounging on one of the scarlet beanbags amongst a group of other First Years. It seemed they had naturally drawn together, and they were chatting wildly, each of them loud and excitable. Thomas loved them all already. Particularly a small, lean girl who had dropped on her stomach on the golden beanbag next to his, her china doll face surrounded by a wild curtain of thick dark hair, blinking at him with bluer eyes than he had ever seen.

She had smirked in greeting, a charismatic twist of her dark lips, and scrunched her nose as she introduced herself.

"Teresa Agnes. And you are?"

"Thomas," he grinned at her, shaking her outstretched hand. "Thomas Edison."

Her reply had been a lift of her eyebrows and a deeper smirk. Her eyes flashed intelligently and that was that. Thomas was totally and utterly hooked, certain that this girl was meant to be his friend. They had fallen into easy conversation, laughed over the fact that they shared the habit of talking wildly with their hands, and by the time the older students were retiring to their dorms for last-minute studies before bed Thomas and Teresa had become firm friends.

"Who're you writing to, Tom?"

Thomas looked over to where Teresa perched on edge of the sofa she'd migrated to. She and another boy, Winston his name was, were playing a game of Wizard's Chess and she looked to be winning.

"My little brother." he answered. "Well, he's sort of my brother." He laughed at the ridiculousness of it. "He's basically my brother, closest i've got anyways."

Teresa tipped her head to the side, keeping one eye on the chessboard as one of Winston's pawns drew him a dirty look before being blitzed by Teresa's rook.

"Step or foster?"

Her tone was so casual and natural that Thomas released the worry he hadn't known he'd been harbouring. It seemed there wouldn't be a need for long drawn-out family history. Perhaps further down the road of their friendship.

"Step. His dad, my mum."

Teresa smiled, knocking out Winston's bishop easily, as though she wasn't even paying attention.

"What's his name?"

Thomas looked up again as he finished the word he was on and smiled back at her.

"Chuck. It's short for Charles, but it suits him better."

"Chuck." Teresa rolled the name around her mouth as though committing it to memory by feeling it on her tongue. "I like it." she said brightly, and Thomas grinned, flushing happily.

"Yeah, me too."

"Hey," piped up Winston, "Isn't Chuck the name of Gally Darwin's little brother?"

Teresa looked at the other boy, curious. Thomas simply shrugged noncommittally as though it didn't really matter.

"Yeah, Gally's my other step-brother. Chuck's like his total opposite. Like, the difference between the sun and…" he paused, thoughtful. "The fiery pits of hell." he smirked, pleased when the others laughed.

"Yepp, that about sums Gally up. He's a right creep." muttered Winston, and Thomas grinned as he returned to his letter, deciding that yes, he liked those two very much indeed.

 _Chuck,_

 _Already missing you, man!_

 _You're going to love this place, it's absolutely shucking incredible! I'm already looking forward to when you come next year. I wonder what House they'll put you in. The Hat is alive, by the way. They put this old Hat on your head and it goes into your brain and tells you what House you'd be best in. I kind of wasted to go into Slytherin with Gally but the Hat thought it'd be a bad idea._

 _So Hey, your step-brother's a Gryffindor! ROAR!_

 _It's kinda funny being in Gally's enemy House. Maybe you'll join me!_

 _Although he's being weird and almost friendly. I think he's up to something, it's crazy weird._

 _There are brilliant people here, i think i've made two friends already. I think you'd like them._

 _Anyway, i'm about to head to bed, buddy. I'll write again when i next get the chance._

 _Give mum and Myro my love,_

 _Thomas._

He rolled up the parchment after signing his name, tying it with a blue string and scribbling a crude little picture of a bear on the outside with a smile. For whatever reason, his little brother was almost obsessed with bears. He had books on them, stuffed bears - realistic ones with inset glass eyes and little leather claws. He and Thomas had spent part of their summer together sitting out on the back porch with little chunks of wood and the pocket knives Myro had given them when Gally got his new bicycle, whittling little figurines from the soft wood.

Chuck had taken to the task like a duck to water, and before long the two of them had crafted a little troop of bears in different poses. The day before they set off for King's Cross Thomas collected the few successful figures he had managed and taken them to the room they shared, and together they had decorated Chuck's windowsill with them.

"All done?"

Thomas started as Teresa's voice reached him, realising he'd been staring at the rolled letter in his hands. He smiled, getting up from the embrace of the beanbag to stretch. He made his way over to the couch, plonking himself down beside her.

"Yeah. One of the fourth years said they'd show me the Owlery tomorrow before breakfast."

Winston glanced up, his knight between two fingers.

"Oh! I'll come with you, i promised my mum i'd write her the first night."

Thomas nodded, setting down the parchment and stowing his quill in the box on the table, leaning over to watch them play.

"You looked at your timetable yet?" Teresa asked, losing a pawn to Winston with a shrug.

"I did, i have Charms first thing. _So_ excited." He watched Teresa win back some ground by taking out a bishop.

"Oh. Me too, and then Potions?"

Thomas looked at her, excited. "Yes!" He cried, "Me too!"

She grinned back at him as they both looked across the low table at Winston. He knocked over Teresa's last knight before looking up at them both with a smile.

"And then Divination, right?"

Thomas and Teresa beamed at him. It looked like they were going to be spending many of their classes together. _Brilliant_.


	7. The Owlery

Thomas was up with the sun, filled head to toe with excitement. Magic school. It was like a dream. He threw aside the red and gold covers and slid his feet out of bed and onto the lion-embroidered rug, barely noticing the cold Flagstones as he padded across the Dorm room to the bathroom. The shower room was huge, with a shower for each of the four six boys in his room. Thomas chose one near the middle and stood under the deliciously warm spray of water with a grin so wide he felt his face might split in two.

"You're keen." remarked a voice from behind him.

He peered over the shower stall door and grinned at Winston.

"Aren't you? I can't _wait_ to see what Magical classes are like. Gotta be a different story from Muggle, yeah?"

Winston chuckled at him eagerness and he stepped into his own stall, the gushing hiss of hot water joining Thomas's like a second voice in a soothing and refreshing choir. As the boys washed and dried, the remainder of their dorm traipsed through, a few grumbling about the hour but most feeding off of Thomas's excitement to fuel their own.

The Common Room was already starting to fill with older students, and the fourth year who had offered to show Thomas the Owlery found him as the Prefects were aligning First Years to escort them to breakfast.

"Anybody else need to know where the Owlery is? Once on a lifetime opportunity here!"

"Don't be long," warned one of the Prefects - Thomas thought his name was Adam, "and make sure they get to breakfast okay."

The fourth year rolled her eyes and nodded. A few faces popped up eagerly, and Teresa appeared just as they were leaving, rushing over to Thomas's side.

"Figured i'd come for the walk." she grinned at him as they scurried after the long-legged fourth year.

The Owlery was pretty huge. Every room Thomas had seen at Hogwarts so far had defied spacial expectations. The floor was strewn with several inches of straw and thousands of feathers in a spectrum of colours. Every foot or so of wall had perches of all shapes and sizes, long ones like curtain rods and short blocks which seemed to be designated to the largest owls.

Thomas stared, enchanted by the sheer number of owls in the room. Even as they stood there there were owls flying in and out of the large arched windows, feather drifting down like speckled snowflakes. It was incredible. There were giant Eagle owls, golden brown and fierce looking creatures with long hooked beaks and frowning eyes. There were barn owls, brown and beige and golden blonde. There were several snowy white owls that stood out like pale white splashes amongst the hundred shades of brown.

The variety was so well-rounded that Thomas had to force himself to close his gaping mouth. There were tiny owls, itty bitty things smaller than the palm of his hand, with eyes that seemed too big for them and wings so delicate it seemed surreal that they could carry their weight. The room was filled with twittering, the odd screech sounding from unknown angles. The sound of so many wings shuffling and settling was like the sound of wind through snowdrifts, and Thomas couldn't help but grin. The Owlery was _shucking awesome_. He'd have to write to Chuck again, just to tell him about this. He knew the younger boy would be just as enthralled as him, if not more.

"Okay guys, you've got two minutes to get your letters tied off and then we're off to breakfast. Can't have you late your first day."

Thomas looked at Teresa, and was relieved to see he wasn't the only one overwhelmed by the number of birds in one place. Winston had already chosen a school owl, a quiet brown and black speckled barn owl with wide brown eyes. Teresa didn't have anything to post, but she reached out her arm for a small snowy to land on, stroking the bird's startling feathers and cooing at it. Thomas smiled. She was so fiery, from what he'd seen the day before and yet in that moment she was adorable. He felt his face flush a little and he looked away, up to the high sloped ceiling, thousands of eyes blinking back down at him. It was almost enough to make him feel dizzy.

He let out a soft whistle, a three-note sound that was answered by a familiar cry from far above. Thomas grinned as an owl dropped from one of the highest perches, drifting down gracefully on delicate wings. The compact body spiralled before landing on Thomas's forearm, rubbing the crown of her head under his chin in greeting. She coo'ed and Thomas murmured back to her, stroking her chest feathers softly. The tiny beak nipped affectionately at his fingertips and he laughed.

The owl wasn't the smallest in the room but she was on the small side. Her feathers were unique, a rare try-colour combination of ashy grey, sooty black and golden auburn. She had large round eyes framed by soft downy feathers and one was blue and the other green. She was an oddity that Thomas had taken to right away, and because she'd been abandoned as barely a hatchling and been with Thomas ever since, she was the best behaved owl anyone could wish for.

Teresa came over, her snowy greeting Thomas's owl with a short keen. The smaller owl blinked back calmly.

"Oh my gosh, who is this little beauty?"

Thomas beamed at her, loving the way her eyes glittered. He was very proud of his unusual little owl. He continued to stroke her velvety feathers as he introduced her.

"This is Glade. She's unique. No other owl like her, isn't that right?"

He punctuated the last part by dipping his face to tap her head with his nose as though it were a beak and she hooted softly back. Teresa reached out a slow hand.

"May i?" she asked, and Thomas wasn't really sure who she was asking.

Glade blinked and shuffled her small feet on Thomas skin before she leaned in, allowing Teresa to stroke her head. Teresa giggled, grinning widely. She turned thrilled eyes on Thomas and he could see the childlike delight in their sapphire depths.

After tying Chuck's letter to Glade's leg and giving her one last nose bump Thomas watched her take off into the air, swooping through the window into the morning sky. Teresa chattered about her all the way down to breakfast. Her enthusiasm was so infectious that Thomas forgot to feel nervous about their first day.


End file.
